


Lazarus, Rise.

by Isadorabelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isadorabelle/pseuds/Isadorabelle
Summary: "Why should I fear death? If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. Why should I fear that which cannot exist when I do?"—EpicurusDeath was never meant to co-exist with us as we walk among the living. Perhaps Death should have been apprised of these rules before Severus Snape died.





	1. Chapter 1

_"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."_

Even nature didn’t murmur as the Dark Lord offered life to his enemies—a choice that every living soul there knew wouldn’t be taken by those loyal to the fallen. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and even Slytherin stood united against a common enemy as Hagrid’s form shook behind the Dark Lord, Harry Potter draped across his arms. As Hagrid moved forward, a chorus of agonized cries rang out until Lord Voldemort’s roar and a wordless spell silenced them. He demanded that Hagrid put him down and the Dark Lord, reveling in his victory, stood over the fallen Boy-Who-Lived.

_"You see?" said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"_

“How very….sanctimonious of you.”

The low, raspy whisper seemed impossibly loud as it rang out from one side of the courtyard to the other. A figure—a marionette doll fashioned from a corpse—slowly shuffled to stand in front of the energetic, gaunt figure towering over The-Boy-Who-Lived. Heavy dark robes swept the cobblestone while dark hair swayed with each step. What skin could be seen had a grey-yellow pallor: the distinct absence of blood that no breathing body could have the look of.  
Severus Snape’s head rolled back, exposing the blood and pus that covered his whole front from Nagini’s bite. He fixed tired, pained eyes on the Dark Lord as he cleared his throat of the saliva and blood that had been there.

“This cannot be.”

Lord Voldemort didn’t bother to hide his shock initially, but he quickly regained his composure at the gasps of his Death Eaters behind him. He straightened and leveled the Elder Wand with his chest. “I do not know how you survived, but sacrifices MUST BE MADE!” A flash of green light shot from his wand just before the killing curse hit its intended target as the Dark Lord once again sacrificed one of his own.

There was no unceremonious drop as a man determined to die finally accomplished it. Rather, the second the curse hit its target, so did a bolt of lightning. It looked as if one had thrown a bag of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder at his chest and it exploded in a massive cloud of ink. It spread, curling around invisible energies that surrounded the traitor and spy inside. It engulfed him, and then the bodies of fallen witches and wizards from both sides until no one could see beyond to the other side. As the darkness threatened to consume more it came to a stop and then, within seconds, withdrew again to the figure in the very center. Everything the blackness touched changed and the bodies of the fallen were no more.

And there, in the center, stood Severus Snape. Yet…not.

Long, lank hair and dark robes that hid the 6’2 figure within was replaced with a mop of black curls and a robe not unlike the dark wizard that stood before him. Bare, pale feet flexed on the ground and he slowly lifted his forearm to eye virgin, pale flesh. The figure lowered it again and rolled his head as if the body were a new suit that he was breaking in. Finally a few steps were taken and much like the man the body belonged to, he seemed to glide across the battlefield as he approached a retreating Dark Lord and his followers. Some tried, unsuccessfully, to apparate.

Dark eyes that filled his sockets stared at Lord Voldemort and that darkness seemed to seep into the veins around his eyes and mouth—a mouth that curved up into such a wide and unusual smile that it seemed unnatural. The figure breathed in, a sound that echoed across the bridge and tilted his head.  
“I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time, Tom Riddle.” Two voices, one silky and deep and the other high and soft, mingled as one as the words lazily slid out. Without uttering another word he turned his head towards Nagini. His hand, the fingers blackened, extended and he watched dispassionately as the snake seized and then seemed to wither in on herself until nothing but a husk punctuated by vertebrae remained.

Once again, the figure looked at Lord Voldemort who either from shock or the magic that kept his people in place didn’t react. “I’d offer last words,” the smile was almost flirtatious “but I’d hate to spoil the taste.” Whatever magic held He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named released him and the wizard took several steps back in a futile attempt to avoid his fate. Blackened fingers extended once again, beckoning the wizard back to him. The Dark Lord dropped to his knees, grasping the ground and for what seemed like an eternity, the life left him as it had Nagini. He shriveled and decayed, collapsing upon himself as his forearms gave way until finally what remained was a skeleton shrouded in thin grey skin and a black robe. It was seconds, mere seconds, and once he was a pile of bones this deadly version of their former follower snapped his head up towards the Death Eaters before him.

“Run, hide if you must. I’ll find you. I am Death and all come to me sooner or later.”

Pops suddenly echoed around the courtyard as the magic that held them still released them. Death Eaters vanished, fleeing from the horror they’d witnessed and once they were all gone, Death turned slowly to regard those who remained. Harry and Hagrid were slowly retreating, seeking the safety in numbers that clearly would do little good. He allowed it, watching them all from hollow, glittering eyes.

“Once and a while, someone dies who never should have lived. They were made, they were born, and they were cursed and despite all of the suffering in their life and their many mistakes, they remain good at heart and ultimately that goodness causes them to make the ultimate sacrifice.” The explanation was delivered in the same strange duality as he took slow and deliberate steps towards them. “Most go bad, hungry for the things their childhood denied them. Those that do not are an open door. Rarely I feel it necessary to walk through. Rarer still is one willing to let me. He wasn’t, he’s just too tired to put up much of a fight.”

He stopped when he was close enough to cause the front lines to take a few steps back. The same eerie smile stretched across the younger face of Severus Snape. He tilted his head up, working his jaw just slightly.

“We are more now, we will be more until I decide I’ve had enough of you.”

His blackened eyes snapped shut and face twisted into something akin to searing pain. Severus contorted, gasped as if he’d been struck, and fell unceremoniously into heap on the cobblestone. The only movement that came from the figure was the soft rise and fall of his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

The calm of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was punctuated by the sound of a dinner tray ricocheting off of a wall. It clattered to the floor followed by an orange rolling after it as a voice within the room boomed, vexed beyond measure.

“I’m FINE!”

Minerva McGonagall’s boot taps faltered a moment and a soft sigh escaped the older woman’s lips before she resumed, followed closely by muted sneakers. The witch and her young companion stopped in the doorway only to step aside as a young woman, eyes gleaming with tears, rushed from the room.

Inside another medi-witch stood, unmoved by the angry energy rolling off of her patient as he stood with his back towards the door. She looked to be as old as the hospital its self but stood with perfect posture and an expression which said that Severus Snape was not her first difficult patient and wouldn’t be her last. She tapped her wand against her upper arm, clearly intent to use it regardless of his protests, and then glanced at the witch and the Boy-Who-Lived.

Her silence and glance was enough, Severus turned around and eyed the two figures at the door. The quiet and dominating presence that he’d once had seemed non-existent now as the man stood before them, raging and wild in a white dress shirt too large for his gaunt figure. Whatever angry demand he’d filled his lungs to make seemed to die down just slightly as he kept his eyes on McGonagall. Suddenly the warmth and tingle of a spell wrapped tightly around him as the medi-witch took advantage of his momentary distraction. He fixed an ire-filled stare on her as a quill took notes on parchment next to her.

“This makes me very uncomfortable,” he spat but clearly wasn’t surprised when she didn’t acknowledge him at all. The faint colored ribbon retreated again to her wand tip and the parchment rolled up before coming to settle in her extended hand. The aged witch approached him with all the vigor of a woman a fourth of her age.

“If these results are satisfactory, I’ll consider releasing you. If you make my nurses cry again, or if you keep disrupting my hospital, I’ll give you drought of the living death and keep you here until I need this room.” 

The two sized each other up: her deciding if he’d take her promise seriously and him determining if he should. Turning from him she spared a brief nod for McGonagall and Harry and then swept from the room. Once the doors shut behind her, the eldest woman turned her attention to the man before her.

“Severus-“

“I’m fine, Minerva. I’ve been awake for a week, I haven’t even been allowed my wand and I’ve complied with everything that anyone has asked of me.” His temper had calmed and his tone, along with his schooled expression, looked more like the professor they both knew. “Yes, I’ve been in a bad mood. It has been sour at best for the last seventeen years and the last week has been the most irritating of it all.” Though his baritone voice remained calm, he buttoned the white shirt he’d put on and continued to right himself with more force than was strictly necessary.

“You spent a month mostly unconscious before this week. When you were awake you were delirious, your skin on fire and you muttering things that we’re still trying to decipher. Before that, you declared yourself Death and sucked the life out of Lord Voldemort with a single look. Fine, Severus? Hm.”

Her steady eyes watched the man pay an inordinate amount of attention to his attire—too large for a frame that he either couldn’t or wouldn’t flesh out—until he looked up at her. “I don’t remember that.” A lie, though likely not clear to one that hadn’t seen the child him stand before her desk and deliver it with all the defiance he could muster.

“I’m fine, Minerva,” he repeated, “and I have no desire to do anything to anyone. I’m safe, and I don’t even want to be around people-“

“It’s not what you’d do to other people” Harry spoke up so suddenly that Severus looked at him as if he’d forgotten that he was there. He hadn’t, but the disruption clearly wasn’t appreciated. “It’s about what they might try to do to you.” The green eyed boy watched his former professor.  
“You killed him. You…you took what was left of him and just forced it out of him until he was a pile of bones. And then you told his Death Eaters to run because it wouldn’t do them any good. Everyone either hates you or loves you, and they are all afraid of you.” The boy himself didn’t sound afraid, but there was a degree of disarming vulnerability that kept his former Potions Master silent.

“You saved us all, again. You protected all of us, again. It was supposed to be me, him and me, and you made sure that he’d never hurt anyone else again.” Harry Potter fell silent and just as that silence stretched into uncomfortable, he spoke again. “You are the man who sacrificed everything for all of us, and then killed Voldemort. None of us—I—am not ready to have someone kill you for it.”

Severus stood still, halfway between shrugging on his black robe (his button up coat looked ridiculous on him now) as Harry talked. Once he finished, the Severus slowly pulled the robe the rest of the way on. He didn’t try to look at Harry with his typical hatred and distain. Those emotions felt far too trivial now.

“Regardless of what that medi-witch says” Severus began softly, but with a sense of finality, “I’m leaving St. Mungo’s today. I assume that’s why you are here. I will have my wand back, and I’ll not spend another night in this hospital.”

 

The pop and sizzle of the camera’s flash was drowned out by the various journalists from the Daily Prophet and other wizarding newspapers around Europe. Severus winced just slightly at the flash. They’d barely let him, Potter and McGonagall out of the doors of the wizarding hospital before they descended on them like buzzards on a fresh, unguarded kill. That’s what they were: a fresh kill. And each journalist was fighting for their piece of flesh.

The man in the middle, the former spy—a job that relied on being unnoticed—stiffened as dark eyes darted around the crowd before them. Severus Snape softly let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and let his eyes settle randomly on various points in the crowd.

“Lord Voldemort is dead.” People still flinched at his name. Severus sneered at those who did. “He’s never going to be able to hurt anyone else ever again. How it happened is irrelevant. My role in it is irrelevant.” He paused just a moment and then breathed in deeply. “All I want is to be left in peace. Leave me alone.”

As he began descending the steps Severus ignored questions about the Wizengamot and the meeting that, though supposedly cordial, would undoubtedly be anything but. Keeping his head down, a grim line took the place of his lips and as soon as the former Potions Master was clear of the nearest journalist, he raised his wand and disappeared with the telltale pop of apparating. He was gone, leaving the vultures to his former student and colleague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The END!
> 
> hehe, just kidding guys. Everything that he's been for his entire adult life is now over. In so many ways, with or without help from the guy with the scythe, Severus is a new man. How's he supposed to cope with that? I feel like this chapter felt a little rushed towards the end, but he wanted it over. It felt wrong to try to extend this chapter out any further.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything about the room was designed to make the person in the very center as uncomfortable and off center as possible. A complete absence of color, except slate grey, and several half circle rows of seats looking down at the unlucky individual in the center only enhanced the dire circumstances that might have one forced to look up at his or her judge and jury.

Severus’ eyes slowly slid over all the Wizengamot, taking in each face before his eyes rested on the wizard presiding. The man was a shriveled raisin, his weathered tan face currently wrinkled worse now as he frowned down at what had to be parchment. Like the rest of the room, Severus’ clothing lacked color though his customary black outfit, now tailored to fit his somewhat different frame, spoke volumes about the man encased in it. Though his face different, free of the years he’d been under stress, his expression was the same: a blend of haughty boredom and annoyance. Finally the raisin faced man looked up at him and indicates to the chair directly in front of him. 

“Please, have a seat. We did you the courtesy of not bounding you to the chair. You’re perfectly safe to take advantage of it.”  
Severus glanced down at the perfectly safe chair in front of him and then raised his eyebrow at the man. Still he remained silent, but his expression changed just a little as the annoyance in it spiked. The wizard took note of his refusal and then sat down a quill he’d had poised to write. “We’ve called you here to discuss the death of Albus Dumbledore and the circumstances surrounding it.”

“No.” Severus’ rich baritone reverberated off of the plain walls and a few murmurs followed it. The wizard looked as if he’d uttered a deeply offensive insult about the man himself and when he began to sputter, Severus saved him the trouble. “Albus Dumbledore was dying and he told me to kill him so that an innocent 17 year old boy wouldn’t have to and I could solidify my place in Lord Voldemort’s organization. This is the end of that conversation. Move onto what you really want to know.”

The wizard looked beside himself. Accustomed to holding the room, he seemed unable to process that his subject, an insect beneath his magnifying glass, took command with simple words and a sneer. As he sputtered, growing more frustrated with the situation, a witch several sets to his right and up spoke up.

“We are all grateful for your actions in May, you’ve done the wizarding world a great service,” she spoke, her features mimicking some kind of kindness as she regarded Severus. “But as you might imagine, we need to know what happened.”

Severus listened to her speak, clearly annoyed that it was taking too long to get to the heart of the issue. “Before I woke up in St. Mungo’s, the last thing I remembered was being attacked by Lord Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, so that he could take the Elder Wand.” Severus shot a purely venomous look at the witches and wizards that seemed startled by the name, but before he could speak further on the matter the head wizard seemed to have regained his composure.

“Several nurses reported that you spoke during the month you claim to have been unconscious at St. Mungo’s…”

 

  
The waiting area would’ve been deathly still had it not been for the inaudible buzz of energy that comes from another person. In the case of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the large man seemed to exude personality without uttering a single word. As he sat across from Severus Snape, the other man sat perfectly still, too lost in his own thoughts to make an attempt at polite conversation with his Order ally. 

“Severus, I’d like for you to consider returning to Hogwarts. You were the last Headmaster and kept the kid-“

“No.”

Kinglsey regarded him evenly, his expression saying that he was trying to decide if he’d be so easily deterred with that muttered denial. “You didn’t even listen to my reasoning Severus. Things would’ve been so much worse had it not been for you, everyone says as much. And McGonagall doesn’t want the role.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Severus finally looked at Kingsley and raised a brow at him. “I’ve had enough of serving other people and putting their needs above my own. I will not come back to Hogwarts as the Headmaster. I will not come back to Hogwarts as the Potions Master. I will not work for the Ministry of Magic in any way. Unless you are offering me a cottage in the country where I can” he paused, trying to come up with a demand that Kingsley couldn’t possibly expect “raise bees, read and brew potions and never have to see another living soul again, then the answer is no.” Severus renewed his aimless staring, focusing his dark eyes on some spot on the wall to the right of Kingsley, who breathed in deeply and took up a similar position. 

Several minutes passed before Kinsley spoke again. “What kind of bees would you raise?” The question came out in a perfectly serious tone, as if it weren’t the most ludicrous idea he heard.

“Honey bees. I like honey, and I can study how their hive works.” Severus took a few moments to answer, but when he did he sounded as if it was a well thought out plan and he’d already purchased some little place tucked into a valley somewhere. Kingsley looked away and nodded before muttering a mocking ‘honey bees’ under his breath.  
Severus’ lips twitched up into an amused smirk when a witch, who wore lavender and barely cleared four feet, hurried into the room. 

“Mr. Snape sir, they’ll see you again.”

Wordlessly Severus got up and gave a nod to Kingsley who, having failed his mission, prepared to go back to his duties. Severus followed the witch, taking care not to overtake her, and reentered the chamber he’d been in an hour before as the Wizengamot found new ways to annoy him.

Inside, Wizengamot quieted as Severus once again stood behind the chair and regarded the witches and wizards that, at one point, seemed to have all the power in the world.  
“Albus Dumbledore was a great man, an irreplaceable one to the wizarding world. While we feel that an appropriate fate for you would be the Dementor’s Kiss, the circumstances around what happened in May simply wouldn’t allow it. You might’ve taken a prized wizard from the wizarding world, but you also removed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as well. Furthermore, we don’t know that it would work, and we feel sure that Azkaban couldn’t hold you.” 

At that, Severus’ bored expression changed just slightly, acknowledging that they were finally wise in one thing they said.

“Though we find it a difficult position to be in, we feel that we must….release you of all charges and suspicions.” It looked as if even saying that pained the wizard who would’ve very much enjoyed seeing the former spy carried off by dementors.

“To be clear,” Severus began, “the fact that I’ve now died, came back, and then destroyed Lord Voldemort redeems me of my sins against the wizarding world, correct?” Severus raised a brow as he got a stiff nod. He nodded back slowly. 

“It wasn’t me turning spy 18 years ago for Albus Dumbledore and actively working against Lord Voldemort. And it wasn’t me resuming that role upon his return, where I was met with suspicion and very often suffered for it to prove my loyalty to him, only for me to come back and report anything and everything I learned to Dumbledore.” Severus’ tone wasn’t particularly accusatory, but it drawled as he tilted his head and regarded the wizard who represented them all. “It wasn’t that I protected Harry Potter or that I helped the Order of the Phoenix, the last line of defense against a madman because you lot failed.  
“It was that, by all reports, because I actually died and Death its self decided to take me for a joy ride and rid the wizarding world of Lord Voldemort. That was my saving grace. Correct?” Severus kept his eyes on the wizard a moment longer before looking at the witches and wizards that had decided just what did and didn’t deserve forgiveness. 

“That is…correct.”

Severus nodded just slightly. “Be certain that that is reported to the Daily Prophet. I’d hate for them to get the impression that I have my freedom because I was working for Albus Dumbledore the whole time.” 

Without being dismissed, Severus turned his back on them all and briskly walked from the chamber. He wound his way through the puzzle box that was the Ministry of Magic and came out at the other end, facing a hallway of grand fireplaces and witches and wizards that used them to come and go as they needed to. He joined that number and as he stood in front of his own fireplace, it took only a moment of contemplation before he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace before dropping the powder to the ground.

“Spinner’s End!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I feel like this chapter is kind of lame. I debated even including it, but I feel like it would take away from the next chapter and, ultimately I feel like it's important to represent that the MoM isn't all sunshine and flowers. And, much of their attitude towards Severus is still bitter about everything.
> 
> I think too that some people would be threatened. This war hero died, came back, proclaimed that he was Death and then killed Voldemort. I'd feel pretty damned threatened.
> 
> Edit: Sorry about the present to past tense guys! The outline is written in present tense (I don't know why) and for some reason I didn't convert in my head. I fixed a few small errors too!


	4. Chapter 4

Unlike the Three Broomsticks, Hog’s Head catered to a different sort of clientele. The sort of clientele that fell asleep in the stairwell, McGonagall noted as she sidestepped the snoozing wizard whose mop of hair and stubble was not unlike the grey wall behind the peeling wallpaper. Giving him, and the whole establishment, a disapproving frown she topped the stairs and came to a stop at the first door on the right. The witch warily took one more look at the surroundings and steeled herself before rapping on the door.   
The hollow clunk of two glass bottles falling together came through the door, followed by footsteps almost too quiet to be heard. The witched raised one long suffering brow when the door opened to a man that had looked better approximately one minute after he’d died and been brought back.

Wordlessly Severus stepped away, leaving the door open as an invitation for her to come in. Barefoot he walked back to the window, his dark grey dressing robe disturbing several empty amber bottles that sat upright on the floor, creating a melody with the broken down grandfather clock in the corner. He sat back on the thread barren cushion that softened the window seat and stared out of the window as Aberforth’s goats peacefully grazed in the field by the Inn. He missed how McGonagall took stock of the room, the condition of her former student, and then laid a copy of a local newspaper on the desk. The front page covered a fire that had burned through a street of abandoned row houses in Cokeworth.

“You’ve not finished your breakfast yet,” she observed and looked back at Severus, who rolled his head towards her. 

“I prefer to think of it as I’ve halfway finished my breakfast. Really Minerva, out of the two of us I thought you’d be the glass-half-full one.” McGonagall didn’t try to hide her annoyed look, causing Severus to just smirk and then take another drink from the bottle that he’d had tangling between two fingers. Gingerly, as if she’d break the chair whose leg was curiously gnawed in half, McGonagall sat down at the desk. Once she was sure that it’d support her weight she focused her attention on Severus once again.

“I want you to come back to Hogwarts, Severus.” 

The look he shot her was filled with annoyance and an undertone of anger. Standing up, he walked towards the desk and ignored when he knocked several bottles over along the way. Sitting down, Severus sneered at her from across the table and tore off a piece of the scone because, apparently, eating was important.

“I never belonged in that damned school, teaching those insufferable children.” He only seemed to get more annoyed when her expression shifted to one of doubt, questioning his sincerity. “No, Minerva. No, I really don’t like children and having their hands all over perfectly good potions ingredients, ruining things. And him….Potter. I never wanted to look at that face every day and listen to him laugh with his friends and know that he was the product of his father. Just like his father.” Glowering at the plate, he ate a few bites of the scone and ignored her for a moment.

“James Potter has been dead for almost 20 years, Severus. Do you really hate him so much for taking Lily from you that Harry still deserves so much hatred from you?” The question made him pause as he tore off another piece of the scone. Gingerly he placed the scone back down again and rubbed his long fingers against a cloth napkin.

“No,” he replied quietly and breathed in. “Harry doesn’t deserve that.” The admission was quiet and he shook his head slightly. “He never did, and I never hated him. He was Lily’s son, I couldn’t. But I don’t love her anymore.” Severus gazed up at Minerva and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he looked lost. Leaning back, he shook his head and stared down at his hands. Slowly he stretched his fingers out and turned over one hand, looking at skin not scarred by the typical wear and tear that comes with handling chemicals and potions ingredients. They were virgin hands, untouched by such a hard life.

“It’s gone. I don’t hate James anymore, or the rest. They are dead and I am Death, what’s the point? But I don’t,” Severus hesitated a moment and laid his hands flat again. “I don’t know what to do now.” The clock in the corner ticked away, creating a sound in the heavy stillness that had settled between them.

“I’m old, Severus. The first war took my family and this one took everything out of me. I can’t protect that school.” As the Transfiguration professor sat, her full age seemed to catch up with her. Or, more precisely, the exhaustion of the life she’d led in the fight against the darkness that threatened. “I know you love that school. It was home to you, you had a life there.”

“My life there? Minerva,” Severus shook his head “you and Poppy were the closest to strong, decent parents I’ve ever had, and you knew what the Mauraders did to me and you didn’t stop it.”

“You brought a lot of it on yourself, Severus,”

His calm energy dissipated as he shot her an angry look and quickly launched up from his chair. Stepping away from the desk, he left her behind to stare at the empty, tattered wall behind it.

“There was ONE of me and four of them! They took every chance they could get to bully me. They made my life hell Minerva, and you let them. You let them do it because James Bloody Potter and Sirius Black were your golden boys and Lupin, well, he was the Gryffindor pet and gods know that you couldn’t punish that flea bag. No, they could’ve gotten away with murder—they nearly did with that damned weeping willow—and you wouldn’t do anything. No, not to your precious Gryffindors, no matter how their behavior molded and shaped somebody else into-“ 

“Enough!”

Her harsh, yet somewhat strangled cry forced him silent as he stood in the middle of the room glaring at her. “Severus, please. Enough.” Minerva regarded him, her face twisted in regret, pain and an expression unique to those tired of fighting through life. It was an expression he knew well; it had been the same one that looked back at him every morning for years in the lavatory mirror before he began another day of performing his role in the same sick play.

Severus ducked his head, hiding his own expression of shame and looked off towards the window behind him. His shoulders slumped, his tall frame sinking just slightly before he sighed. 

“I’ll be there tomorrow, Minerva.”

His statement was tired, resigned to the fact that it was the same theatre, but just another play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters really won't come out this rapidly in the future, but I'm just on a creative roll right now and honestly your feedback really helps feed it. This chapter and the last one were the two I debated putting together but ultimately decided against. I'm about to start an online course so it's going to consume a lot of time over the next few weeks. But, until then......
> 
> The story must go on!


	5. Chapter 5

The doors of the Hospital Wing swung shut with a slam, causing the man draped in black inside to cringe just slightly. Hermione Granger took no note of the sulking figure in the corner as she sat a wooden box of sleeping draught on Madame Pomfrey’s desk and noisily slid it to the center of the desk.

“Could you possibly be any louder? Perhaps you have fireworks in your back pocket that you could set off?” 

Hermione jumped, spinning around towards the voice with her wand extended defensively. Severus raised a brow at her, unable to summon up a sneer thanks to the explosions taking place between his ears and behind his eyes.

She relaxed slightly, though her motions remained nervous and jerky as she put her wand back in her sleeve. For a moment Hermione regarded him before a decision seemed to be reached on her open face and any childish anxiety slipped away. She straightened her back and closed some of the distance between them.

“You’re looking for something, where’s Madame Pomphrey?”

“She was too busy righteously slamming the door in my face.” Severus replied as he searched through the store of small bottles, looking for a very specific one saved for very specific older, irresponsible students. And professors that stumbled up to the castle in the dead of night to sleep in their old bed. Carefully shaking his head, he glanced over at her. “Why are you here, Granger? You could teach at this school, do you really need to finish off the last year?” Severus didn’t even feign interest in her answer, but grunted when the search of yet another box was fruitless.

Hermione stood with her arms crossed, a frown on her face for a moment before she grinned slightly. “You just told me I could be a Hogwarts professor. That’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me.” For a moment she looked very pleased, both happy that someone thought so much of her and that it was Severus Snape that said it.

“I’m hung over. Don’t get used to it.”

Wordlessly Hermione began searching with him, starting at the end that he clearly hadn’t managed to rummage through yet. He made no effort to stop her, and, several minutes later, she answered his original question. “No, I didn’t come back to be a student. The castle needs repairs and my parents are gone. I love this school and anyway, I have nowhere else I want to go. I just want to be here.” The witch smiled in victory as she pulled out the potion in question, a small vial of swirling blue potion labeled ‘Hangover Off’, and then handed it to him. 

Giving her a slight incline of his head as thanks, Severus took it and leaned against the stone wall next to the cabinet before downing it in one swallow. He pulled a face for a moment before closing his eyes and resting his head on the cool stone, waiting for the headache and sensitivities to subside. After a moment his eyes crack open, no longer bloodshot, and eyed Hermione as she watched him.

“Stop looking at me, Miss Granger. Everyone stares and I really don’t like it.” Hermione started, jerked from her gaze and turned away slightly.   
After a moment she glanced in his general direction before she crossed her arms and focused her eyes on a chipped stone in the floor. “I’m sorry.” Hermione didn’t wait long for him to question her, or escape the situation.

“Other members of the Order might’ve been obvious and targets for Lord Voldemort and his followers, but you were inside. Every time you went to a meeting you put your trust in all of us not to betray Dumbledore and the Order and tell him that you were a spy. And what you got for it was…attitude and distrust. You were just a tool while the rest of us were people.” She paused and sighed before glancing around the room. “Death would’ve been a kinder, but permanent rest” she continued and then looked at him with a little grin. “But, not for you. Aren’t you lucky.”

Severus couldn’t stop his snicker from turning into a quiet little laugh at her comment. Hermione looked surprised, but pleased that he’d reacted that way. Encouraged, she turned to face him properly. “I’ve had some trouble brewing. I never quite grasped Felix Felicis and a few others. Would you tutor me while I’m here?”  
Snorting, Severus pushed himself off of the stone wall. “Gods Granger, I’m not the potions master anymore, why would I want to stand around tutoring an irritating Gryffindor that doesn’t need it?” He stepped over to the potions again, briefly taking stock of what was needed so he’d know what to brew.

“I haven’t really brewed more than one or two potions in almost a year. I feel like I could use a refresher, potions was never my strong suit.” She shrugged slightly, a little more casually that what was natural. “Besides, as a student you improved on the potions textbook. You were terrifying in the classroom, but really fantastic. Aren’t you…bored?” Severus’ hands stilled a moment and he glanced over at her as he considered what she said.

“After dinner, laboratory 7.”

 

  
The occasional bubble of a potion and grainy sound of a knife slicing through firm root was all that indicated anyone was in the otherwise silent lab. Inside everything was pristine, the dust and cobwebs that had settled in the absence of the laboratory’s master cleared with the wave of a hand. The walls were the same dull grey as the rest of Hogwarts’ dungeons, but somehow it lacked the malevolence so often attached to such a harsh color. Instead of candles, orbs of pure white light hung suspended around the lab, bathing it in a powerful fluorescent light better suited to such the delicate work that happened in such a room. In the corner next to the door a coat rack stood, holding a long black, sweeping robe.

Severus moved silently around the table, a dance perfected over years of brewing, as he organized ingredients and tools where he needed them. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows while the man was oblivious to anything, even the occasional pop of the potion against his skin, except what he was doing. So engrossed in his work he didn’t notice Hermione, watching the subtle solitary ballet, as she lingered by the door. Finally she cleared her throat softly and his head jerked up. The serene expression that had been on his face clouded with embarrassment and unease before a familiar stoic façade slipped over his face.

“I wasn’t there long,” Hermione quickly offered and stepped the rest of the way in. She sat her purse down and walked to stand beside him. For a moment a sneer threatened his face before it died again and he began rolling down his shirt sleeves. Impulsively she reached out and put her hand over his and, for a moment, she stared at him and his stunned expression. “It’s hot brewing potions and there’s nothing there for you to hide. Please, don’t make yourself uncomfortable because of me.”  
Hermione gingerly withdrew her hand and watched as he stood perfectly still for a moment before slowly rolling the sleeve back up again. Without a word he pushed a chopping block to her with a faded purple root halfway sliced on it. Picking up the knife, Hermione tried to mirror the thickness of the slices as Severus told her which potion it was for. She nodded, her eyes glancing over the table at how everything was setup before she resumed slicing.

Time was suspended as they worked, both focused intently on what they were doing. The lab filled with aromas not unpleasant, but not enough to be distracting. Though quite aware of the Gryffindor working in tandem with him, the hard façade had dropped and his expression once again was peaceful. Occasionally he provided instruction, feedback on the work she was doing, but beyond those murmured statements the lab had filled with a peaceful quiet as she brewed one potion and he prepared others for the Hospital Wing.

 

“Ah, Miss Granger, a perfect brew.”

Hermione looked up as she stirred it one last time and smiled. “I always had trouble right at the end, maybe my nerves just got to me,” she provided as an explanation and then cast a statis charm on it so she could bottle the potion for use later. Severus did the same, and eyed the case of empty bottles he’d retrieved and put in the corner. He looked back at her then at the table top.

“Thank you.”

Hermione looked at him surprised, and then confused as he moved to fetch the case. Once he returned, he glanced up at her and her expression. “You didn’t need any help. You knew exactly what you were doing and having me here was a formality. This…was because I’m bored. So thank you.” Thanking anyone was clearly an alien practice for him as after he said it, he looked away and began to bottle the potions he’d been working on. Hermione shrugged.

“You’re welcome. And…it’s the very least I can do. I don’t know how many times you saved Harry, Ron and me when we did stupid things. And that’s just us. There’s no way anyone can fully repay you for what you’ve done for all of this.”

“I really don’t deserve that.”

Hermione remained so silent that Severus glanced up at her. She nodded slowly, engrossed in thought, before she looked at him again. “No. You don’t get to say that.” Severus blinked at her in surprise and raised a brow, but he didn’t get a chance to respond to her.

“You don’t have the right to dictate how other people behave and what they think you do and do not deserve. It’s an opinion, and I’ll do and think as I please. And, if I want to do something nice for you, I’ll damned well do it. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Severus stared at her a moment, one hand holding an empty bottle and funnel while the other prepared to ladle up the potion for it. Slowly and deliberately he put both down and then laughed. “You…are most certainly, without a doubt, a Gryffindor.”

Hermione grinned at him and then laughed a little bit, unable to help it. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I consider it one.” The man across the table struggled to keep a grin from his face in order to maintain his brooding reputation.

“Yes, it is a compliment.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay guys, the last rapid fire chapter. I swear. But, they wouldn't shut up so I had to write! Plus I felt bad leaving the last chapter on a sad note. Aaaand, I will marathon the shit out of a story and hate it when it's incomplete, so I'm a little driven.


	6. Chapter 6

“Severus, am I safe?”

Severus shrugged slightly as he watched the blond wizard fidget in front of him. Lucius Malfoy had already risen from the disheveled state he’d been in since Voldemort’s reign back to the almost pompous regality he enjoyed most of last two decades. Now, as he sat in Hogwarts Headmaster’s office he shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to address the wizard that sat in front and slightly above him. 

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be, Lucius.” Severus finally replied and, as he looked a bit thoughtful, he stood up. “You turned on all of the Death Eaters you knew about and that information is probably why Azkaban has so many….guests. You’ve done your part. I don’t think the Ministry is interested in going back on their amnesty agreement.”

Lucius stood as well and picked up his cane. “That’s not what I mean Severus. I know I’m safe from them. Am I safe from _him_?” A shadow of anxiety passed over his face as he regarded Severus, who merely glanced at Lucius as he took off the black jacket he’d customarily worn, leaving him in a white shirt. He hung it up on a coat rack in the corner.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop being difficult, you know what I mean!” The demand came out as an angry hiss, which quickly died down when Severus gave him a dark look. “You- He- said that he’d find us. You’d find us. You’re Death now, Severus, or at least connected. Am. I. Safe?” Severus paused midway through rolling up his sleeves before he looked at Lucius again and sighed. 

“Walk with me.”

 

With Lucius in tow, Severus slowly wound his way through the school sidestepping crews of witches and wizards working on fixing the wounds inflicted on the castle a month before. Finally, as they approached the entrance hall, he spoke.

“I can’t say, Lucius, because I don’t know.”

They passed Draco, working side by side with those he spent seven years of his life with. Houses didn’t matter, Slytherins worked silently by Gryffindors as young and old labored to fix what had been broken. Severus watched all of this, his hands in his pants pockets as he walked. Though they both drew attention from the restoration, the hostility and indeed most of the attention, went to the blond former Death Eater. The large front doors stood open, letting the warmth of summer and the sun stream in and the two wizards step out. Severus stopped on the steps, squinting against the sun.

“Lucius I don’t know what happened. What you saw and what everyone says is probably true. Or, at least it’s no less confusing. In any case, I know what kind of man you are.” He turned to look at the blond. “You are a vain, opportunistic wizard whose resemblance to his white peacocks is unsettling.” He paused and the faintest hint of amusement at Lucius’ indignation was obvious.

“But you love your family. You might’ve bankrolled the war, but you do what’s best for your family. I don’t know, but if I had to hazard a guess I’d say that’s probably what saved you.”

The blond didn’t say anything and though he took half a second to glance inside, he looked back out towards Hogsmeade again. “We’ve been friends since Hogwarts. Would you spare me?” Lucius looked back at him, his eyes nearly shut to shield him from the sun. 

“Again, it’s not up to me.” Severus said and hesitated a moment, then glanced up at Lucius. “Yes, I’d spare you.” The statement was quiet, a thoughtful response. Lucius stilled for a moment before giving the other man a small nod. He didn’t bid Draco goodbye but rather turned and began the trek away from the school. Severus watched him walk away, his head tilted slightly.

 

“What’s going to happen to him?” Draco had paused his work and stood just inside the doors. As Severus turned to come back in, he looked from his father’s retreating back to Severus. Shaking his head, Severus answered.

“I really don’t know, Draco.” Severus shook his head and moved to the side so the young man wouldn’t be squinting against the sun. “I can’t put in a good word to…whatever it is that killed Lord Voldemort. It’s not dog on a leash and I’m certainly not its master.” He paused, speaking more about what happened to Draco than he had even to the medi-witches at St. Mungo’s. For a moment, he seemed to debate. “But whatever influence I have over it, over Him, I’ll always do my best to protect my godson. That includes protecting his father.” 

For a moment a young man who’d grown too quickly stared at a man that defied death in order to kill his tormentor. Without another word Draco moved forward and hugged him tightly. Initially Severus froze, unsure how to react, and then stiffly wrapped his arms around Draco in a tight hug. He rested his chin on top of the blond boy’s hair and glanced into the school, eyeing a few people who had stopped working to watch. 

Several of them did the courtesy of looking away; Harry Potter watched, his expression neutral while McGonagall gave the barest of smiles at the scene. Without an explanation, Draco let go of him again and returned to where he was working. Harry paused long enough to fetch a bottle of pumpkin juice and sandwich before approaching his once-nemesis. Quietly he urged him to take the food and drink, stating that he knew he hadn’t stopped for lunch.

He glanced back at McGonagall, watching her watch the exchange, before he walked up and began helping her on her part of the project. 

“Godson, Severus?” 

Severus glanced at her and then looked back at the stone he was putting in place. “You think I favored Malfoy just because I couldn’t stand your Gryffindors?” After a few moments McGonagall went back to work and he suppressed a little smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this one doesn't have Hermione in it, but I really wanted a chapter that showed his relationship to the Malfoy family. I know that it isn't explicitly said in canon that Severus was Draco's godfather, but Narcissa came to him, against Moldy Short's orders, to make him make the unbreakable vow. I feel like that's a big deal lol. Anyway, I feel like showing the relationships he has with other people outside of Hermione and even McGonagall is important. Plus, he's in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves! He's trying so hard to be comfortable with the fact that he doesn't want to be the doom and gloom he was before. 
> 
> And about the peacocks....come on....we've all thought it, Severus is brazen enough to say it lol


	7. Chapter 7

It had become customary that at least two nights a week the aroma of bubbling potions wafted up from the fifth laboratory at the end of the candle lit stone hallway. Inside, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape worked side by side, both dressed simply with their shirt sleeves rolled up to the bend of their arms and both oblivious to small little pricks of pain as a potion sputtered from the heat beneath it. Beyond a magical timer that lazily hung over each potion, time was non-existent. Beyond the thick wooden door where the smells of potions past permeated it, Hogwarts didn’t really exist either. 

“But I really do prefer a muggle scale over magic. I know, I know, being raised muggle, but it’s very accurate.” Hermione’s statement, the fragment of a conversation that had paused several minutes before, broke the quiet that had settled over them. 

“I’m not disagreeing with you. It’s just to use it here we would need one strictly mechanical, and I question the accuracy of one that isn’t digital.” Severus didn’t miss a beat, picking up his role in the conversation as he chopped up the next ingredient to be added to one of the potions they were brewing. The sound of his knife softly hitting the chopping block joined the chorus of a potion’s rolling boil.

 

“I didn’t know this is where you’re brewing. Not surprised, really.”

Hermione jumped, her head snapped up to the doorway while her partner merely glanced up at the redhead that stood there with his arms crossed. He glanced over at Hermione. 

“First it was you, now him. I really need to learn how to lock my doors against riff raff.” His tone was long suffering and subtly playful for anyone who knew what to listen for. Hermione did, and she laughed at the comment as she looked at him. When she glanced at Ron, who wasn’t amused in the least bit, the laughter stalled as she cleared her throat.

“Me and Harry are going to The Three Broomsticks,” Ron began, ignoring when Hermione ducked her head and mouthed ‘Harry and I’. “We’re going to celebrate the castle nearly being done and the Ministry snatching up another group of Death Eaters that’ve gone ‘round the bend. Come on.” He jerked his head towards the steps that led out of the dungeons, clearly expecting his girlfriend to come. 

Hermione shook her head. “I can’t. I’m in the middle of brewing.” She returned her attention to one of the cauldrons, this one silver, and began carefully adding an ingredient she had prepared. She didn’t look up at the audible huff from the doorway. 

“Mione, all you do anymore is work on the castle, read or brew potions!”

Looking up at him, Hermione nodded at the protest. “Yes, and right now I’m brewing. Go ahead without me and if I finish up early enough I’ll join you.” Hermione offered him the compromise and frowned slightly when Ron looked at her, then Severus, and after glancing back at her he huffed again and almost stomped back towards the steps. Hermione paused, not moving until she heard his footsteps fade away. Even after she continued adding ingredients she was silent for several minutes.

“He doesn’t prioritize anything important. All he wants to do is play around. And yes, he’s helping with Hogwarts, but he isn’t worried about his learning. He’s not thinking about his future and worst yet, he’s jealous.” Her frustration came out in her voice, and on the beetle she was pulverizing.   
Severus silently watched, glancing between the beetle, which wasn’t supposed to be a powder, and her. Uncertainty crossed his features briefly before he breathed in and looked back at his own potion. He seemed unsure, inexperienced in how to deal with a problem such as this one. Finally, a look of finality passed his face.

“Your time is your own. Weasley has known you since you came to this school. He’s known your dedication to your education. Just because you’re in a relationship now doesn’t give him the right to be jealous of that. I’m not surprised that he is, though maybe a little disappointed.” He was pleased with himself for just a second before his expression once again settled into neutrality.

Beside him, Hermione shook her head. She wasn’t as aggravated and, realizing that the beetle had suffered the brunt of her irritation, she dumped it and got fresh ones. “It’s not that he’s upset that I’m spending time reading and brewing, it’s that I’m brewing with you.” As soon as she said it Hermione’s mouth shut and she stiffened. The witch looked at the wizard beside her, who looked just as suddenly uncomfortable, and confused, as he glanced back at her.

“I…don’t understand. Why would he be jealous?” Severus looked genuinely puzzled, which only seemed to add to her discomfort.

“Well,” she paused and shuffled her feet “well you see,” a sigh, “you’re really very attractive. And you’re frankly frighteningly intelligent. And, you killed the Dark Lord. Ron feels,” she hesitated and bit her lip a moment “inferior.” Hermione watched him, a Gryffindor watching to see of a Slytherin would exploit a tidbit of information so freely offered. Severus only shifted his feet, appearing as if he suddenly had been thrust in front of the entire wizarding world and camera flashes were rendering him blind. Again.

“I’m sorry of I just violated a boundary.” She had a tone of regret and an expression of someone who immediately regretted saying something they couldn’t take back.

Slowly, Severus shook his head. “No,” he began slowly. “It’s just that I’ve never been told that before. Intelligent, yes, but attractive is” he snorted “not something anyone has ever accused me of being.” The admission didn’t seem to alleviate any of his discomfort, but he made a visible effort to at least pretend like it did. An uncomfortable silence stretched on for a full 90 seconds, both now acutely aware of the passage of time.

“Well,” she began “I’m hung over. Don’t get used to it.” Hermione fought off a grin as long as she could, but when he started to grin, her face split open into a big smile and both began to laugh.

 

Once again time forgot the laboratory; the awkward moment had passed and left in its wake a lighter mood. By the time they emerged from the dungeons, it was dark outside and all but the house elves that called Hogwarts home had turned in for the night. They bid goodbye but as Severus turned towards the large front doors, Hermione stepped after him. 

“Oh…are you not staying in the castle?” She asked, confused, and then embarrassed at asking. Severus turned to look at her and shook his head. 

“I don’t really sleep well. A walk helps, sometimes.” He nodded and, hesitating a moment, invited her along if she so wished it. With a smile the witch accepted and together, they stepped out of the large doors

Both walked in silence and the calm peace that they’d fostered in the dungeon seemed to extend outside too. It wasn’t until the placid surface of the Black Lake came into view, brightly illuminated by the moon, that either of them spoke.

“We’ve been brewing for a while and you haven’t once asked me about what happened that day. Why is that?” The tone wasn’t accusatory, but curious. They came to a stop at the shore, the smell of a honeysuckle vine wafting over from a nearby bank. 

“I’m curious, but it’s your business. If you want to tell me, you’ll tell me. If you don’t, you won’t.”  
Severus contemplated the reply, his face unreadable as he stared over the water. A fish, presumably, broke the surface of the water. “I remember killing Voldemort.” The admission was quiet, and it was the first time he’d said it aloud to anyone. “It was like being under water. Everything I heard, everything I saw was muffled by Him. Even if I had wanted to I couldn’t stop it. I was too deep to break the surface.”

Silence once again overtook them, the witch beside him no doubt trying to find an instance like it in her encyclopedic knowledge of the wizarding world.

“What’s it like now?”

The question matched his own quiet tones, an attempt to not disturb the peace they were experiencing and, maybe, to keep it private from any curious ears. Severus, meanwhile, frowned as he debated how to best answer. Hermione didn’t push, only occasionally glanced at him as he stared out at the surface of the lake. 

“For pretty much all of my adult life my ability to compartmentalize everything has been a matter of life or death. I built a fortress in my mind where all of my thoughts and memories and feelings had a place on a shelf in a room down a hall.” Severus began. He paused and swallowed as he arranged his words.   
“Death, because that’s what it is, is like a catapult slinging boulders through the walls. Every time I get another part repaired, a bigger hole is made somewhere else. Everything is thrown in disarray and it’s difficult to make sense of it. Death doesn’t want any kind of control or structure and I feel like I’m constantly struggling to have some kind of normalcy.”

Hermione didn’t say anything, but she looked around the lake and at all of the life that seemed to move around them, either oblivious or not caring that they were there. Finally, she looked back at the man beside her and gave him a smile. 

“How you were served a purpose. Being cold to everyone, building a fortress, it protected you from Voldemort, them from Voldemort, and you from Dumbledore.” She saw the look he gave her, but nonetheless pushed on. “He was one of the finest wizards of his generation, probably the greatest. But he had to know this wouldn’t end well for you. He knew you’d die to protect Harry, and you did.” She breathed in after the last statement and then nodded. “I understand it. Sacrifice one for the good of the whole. It’s the same reason both Ron and I would’ve died for Harry. It doesn’t mean I like it. And now? It’s not necessary.” She turned to face him squarely, looking up at the man who had stood perfectly still as she spoke.

“Just because being a certain way is familiar doesn’t mean that’s who you have to be. You’re allowed to change. You…are allowed to walk down Diagon Alley eating ice cream,” the witch giggled at the look he gave her. “You’re allowed to have a life now.”

He didn’t reply, only watched her for a few moments before he looked down at the pebbles along the shore. He shifted his feet side to side and picked up a few particularly flat stones.

“Besides,” Hermione changed the subject, “pretty soon I’ll be out of your curly, unfairly tamed—why is it not frizzy? That’s not fair” she shook her head “and you can spend your time doing something other than tutoring an annoying Gryffindor. The school is almost done.” She gave him a little grin and looked back at the lake again. Despite the grin, there was a look of sadness on her face.

Severus turned one stone over in his hands and glanced over at her. “Are you looking forward to moving on from Hogwarts?” They were the first words he’d spoken after telling her what it was like having a piece of actual Death in him.

Hermione made a little face and shook her head. “Not really,” she admitted and sighed. “Hogwarts is home. I still haven’t found my parents. I don’t have anywhere else to go. But, I suppose we all have to leave sooner or later.”

Shrugging, he sent a stone sailing over the surface of the lake, getting four skips out of it before it disappeared beneath the disturbed surface. “Madame Pince really can’t stand children. I don’t even know why she ever decided to work here, but in any case she’s retiring. I was going to do a job posting in the Daily Prophet, but it seems like a lot of work, and people. How would you like the job?”

“I’m barely out of Hogwarts and I don’t have any experience.” He snorted. Despite her protests, the idea clearly excited her. “I just graduated and honestly I don’t think that the Ministry would okay it….would they?” She sounded doubtful, but hopeful.

Severus skipped another rock across the surface of the lake and stifled a little laugh when a mermaid broke the surface of the water shouting curses at him in Mermish. “I’m the Headmaster, and I’m Death. I can do what I want.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head. “I’m not sure that that’s how it works.” 

“I’m pretty sure it does. And…you can call me Severus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have no idea how long I've wanted to write this chapter! Severus finally has opened up about his experience and you get a glimpse into how his mind works then and now. And Hermione....my sweet Hermione!


	8. Chapter 8

Hogwarts was nearly rebuilt, once again healed and restored to its former glory. The library, though, clearly had been neglected. Hermione straightened and surveyed what was left to do. Piles of books had been haphazardly scattered across tables and the floor; while some books couldn’t be saved, others merely carried scars of the battle of Hogwarts. A frown creased her face once again and she brushed a frizzy lock of hair out of her face.

“We’re making progress, ‘Mione.”

The new librarian gave Harry a smile that fell short of reassuring before sitting back down again. She glanced over at Ron, who was holding a book sideways, grasping the edge of it while the rest of the book hung. He made an odd face, turning his head to get another view of whatever picture had him fascinated.

“Don’t hold it like that Ron, it’ll damage the spine.” Wordlessly Ron turned the book towards her, showing that most of the pages had burnt out and what caught his attention was what was left of a nude illustration of a woman. Hermione rolled her eyes, uttering an ‘oh’ before she picked up another book. Half of the pages were too scorched and the book remained unreadable even after casting a few spells. She picked up a quill and added the title to an ever growing list before gingerly placing it on a too-tall stack of books.

“Hey ‘Mione, why don’t you just toss them in a pile? They aren’t going back on the shelves.” Ron jerked his head to his pile behind him and, as Hermione looked at it, an almost pained expression came over her face. She shook her head and looked away before picking up another book. This one had survived and fared on the better side. A cleansing charm rendered Amaryllis Celestia’s Magic and the Cosmos once again ready to be read by those that called Hogwarts home. The sound of crunching brought her up from her thoughts, and she huffed as she watched Ron stick his hand back into a bag of crunchy cheese snacks.

“Ronald! If you want to eat take a break, otherwise don’t dirty up the books with the cheese dust.”

Ron’s face screwed up into frustration and he dropped the book he was holding harder than necessary. The snack bag followed and he gave her an annoyed look. “Why are you even here? Hogwarts doesn’t need you. Your parents….they need you. You should be out looking for them,” as soon as the last word left his mouth, Ron knew that he’d made a mistake and it was apparent by his widening eyes and how his mouth snapped shut.

Hermione, who had previously been set in grim resolution to get the library back in order, now seemed alight with anger. He’d crossed a line. “I am looking for my parents, Ronald.” Her voice was soft, dangerous. “Just because I’m not in Australia doesn’t mean I’m not looking. Part of bringing them back is restoring their memories, and I did a very good job at removing myself. Here, I have access to knowledge that can help. You need to learn that just because I don’t run into things head first doesn’t mean I’m not working on it,” she spoke slowly, her eyes not leaving Ron’s face. His ears had turned red, but it seemed that he wasn’t prepared to let things go.

“You could visit and do that, or use the Ministry. Hogwarts doesn’t need another librarian and Snape doesn’t need somebody to brew potions with him-“

“That’s all this is!” Her voice jumped from the quiet, controlled tone an octave higher, her anger no longer held so tightly in place. “I’m sick of this jealousy! I’m not your property Ron! Just because I spend time with someone else doesn’t mean you have the right to act like…like a troll!”

The redness that had touched his ears moved to his face. Ron stood up, dumping books into the pile the three of them were working on, and then he stormed out. Hermione watched after him, angry tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks. When they finally did she roughly brushed them away, ignored Harry, and then grabbed up another book.

Without saying a word, Harry got up and sat in the small space that had been left open beside Hermione. His long legs were awkwardly folded up, but he tried to appear comfortable as he lightly bumped her shoulder with his own, an unspoken question asking how she was doing.

“I am looking for my parents,” Hermione began, her voice thick, “but could spend a year looking in every town in Australia trying to find them. I didn’t cast a charm to track them. I didn’t want anyone to…to be able to get it out of me.” Hermione explained and then sat the book she was examining down. “I have contacts there and they are trying to locate them.” Sniffing she wiped her eyes, this time more gently.

Harry nodded softly, “I know. I understand.”

“I’m afraid that I won’t find them. And when I do…when I do, what if I can’t fix it? What if they’re gone?” She looked at Harry as if he had the answers, but he only wrapped her in a one armed hug.

“If anyone can do it,” Harry began, “then it’s you. And you’re right. Hogwarts has a lot of knowledge in it with the library and the people here. You’ve got this.” He squeezed her and Hermione seemed to calm down some. For a few moments, he didn’t say anything. “Why are you spending so much time brewing with Snape?”

The question was a gentle inquiry and for a minute she didn’t respond. “The last time we brewed together we debated Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and how it can be applied to both the muggle and wizarding world. Before that we were discussing muggle medicine and its effect on magic folk.” Hermione shrugged and sniffed. “He’ll bring up something one time, and then I’ll bring up something else another time. It’s…like a game and you win if you bring up something that the other doesn’t know much about.”

Harry released her as she picked up a book. He picked up one too, but watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“At first it was for him. His whole world changed, and I just wanted to give him an excuse to do something he was familiar with. But I really enjoy it. Brewing is relaxing and it’s fun to be able to debate with someone that doesn’t just roll their eyes and go off to play chess or give me that spacey look like I’m not even speaking English.”

Hermione frowned and looked through the book. A murmured spell later and the remnants of a spell almost completely vanished from the edge of the pages. Satisfied, she put it in the pile that was ready to be returned to the shelves.

“You like him.” The statement wasn’t angry or jealous, it wasn’t accusatory but a simple observation. Harry shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He was a git, but just look at his potions textbook. He was brilliant even as a student. I understand why Ron is jealous.” Harry fell silent but when Hermione didn’t say anything, he pressed on. “Should Ron be worried?” His tone didn’t change, but Hermione was quick to react.

“No!” Hermione denied it quickly and shook her head a little too hard. “Absolutely not. He was…a bully. He was the man who made fun of my teeth. He called me an insufferable know it all. Why would there be anything to worry about?” The turn the conversation took had visibly unsettled her and she reached for another book, taking refuge in what was familiar.

Harry nodded and then offered a small shrug. “But he’s not the same man anymore, is he? I mean it’s the same dark eyes, same big nose. Same dark hair and pale skin, but…except for his memories, he’s not the same. He doesn’t even dress the same or act the same.” Harry leaned over, his shoulder resting against hers and his head leaned close. “And as far as if Ron should be worried or not, I don’t think it’s me or Ron you’re trying to convince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cousin is my beta reader, but a migraine struck her down. When she is able to get to this chapter I'll make the changes, but since it's a week and I'd feel bad if I left you guys hanging, I figured I'd upload this now. :D


	9. Chapter 9

As summer gave way to autumn, the energy that buzzed around Hogwarts grew stronger and more urgent. In just a few hours Hogwarts would once again open its doors to students. The halls would be filled with young souls and their professors resigned to nightly patrols for the brazen of the student body. Some were excited, finding this once tiresome chore to be a pleasant reprieve from a period of darkness and war. Others were simply resigned to the fact that they had to be there at all.

Severus hadn’t looked up from the parchment, which reached the floor, for several minutes. The list of repairs had been just as extensive and now, as they did last minute tasks, it fell on him as the headmaster to ensure that Hogwarts was as safe as it had ever been for its students. As he used his wand to mark off another item from the list, his dark eyes scanned over it, searching for clear words not obscured by his sharp strikethrough. After a moment, Hogwarts’ headmaster was aware that the buzz of activity around him had slowed to a stop and as at least a few dozen sets of eyes were now focused on him. The potions-master-turned-headmaster gazed over the staff as they all looked at him expectantly. It took several moments for him to finally speak up.

“Oh come on!”

“He did it ev’ry year!”

Hagrid shifted his great feet from where he stood in the back, seemingly appearing out of nowhere for such a ridiculous tradition. Severus looked up at the great hairy man and gave him an annoyed look. 

“Exactly, you’ve all heard it. Why do I have to-“

“It’s tradition!” This time it was Filius Flitwick who chimed in and as the headmaster shifted his focus from the largest in the room to the smallest, it was clear that he’d swallowed back some unkind retort. Instead, his expression simply read ‘don’t try me’ before he looked to McGonagall, who only raised an expectant eyebrow at him. The only person spared his annoyed looks were Hermione, who seemed as confused as he was vexed.

“Oh, fine! For gods’ sake I don’t know why you people-“ 

Severus cut off his own muttering and breathed in deeply. He straightened his back, his demeanor changing from the casual professor in rolled up shirtsleeves into the Headmaster who, even in said shirtsleeves, commanded the room.

“Once again we are here at the beginning of a new year. Fresh young minds, the future of our world, will be walking through those grand doors in just a few short hours so that we may fill their heads with all of the knowledge we can impart on them. We will teach them…” Severus trailed off, a frown coming to his face before he tilted his head and looked at the floor. 

After a moment he gave a single, gentle shake of his head. “I am not Albus Dumbledore. I’m the man that murdered him and took his place at his behest. I won’t do this…silly little speech.” He shook his head again as he looked at his colleagues. Anxiety touched the face of Poppy, uncertain what the boy who she’d set so many broken bones for would do next. Confusion and a flash of anger clouded Hagrid’s great face, but he had more respect for the role than to challenge the Headmaster of Hogwarts. And, Minerva’s lips thinned into an uncertain line, unsure how much more he’d do to make himself at home in robes he never wanted to wear. Hermione’s face had the same open, trusting curiosity that had only made her ordinary beauty extraordinary.

“We’ve been through hell. Every single one of us,” Severus began. “But we’re here. We survived. This…remarkable castle survived an assault and occupation. It’s not a collection of stones and wood planks, we’ve put a piece of ourselves in it this summer and nursed it back to health as it has done for all of us at one point or another. This castle has a piece of each of us in it now and this year starts a new era. Children scarred by the past will walk through those doors, orphans or those that wish they were, and this school will be their safe place from everything outside of those gates.

“That’s your job, and it’s mine. This school will no longer be a breeding ground for lifelong rivalries. We cannot expect the next generation to be better if we don’t teach them to be better here. Now. I’m not going to do away with houses, I don’t think I could, but that should not define us. It shouldn’t dictate who you let into your life.” The glance was subtle, but for a moment Severus looked at Hermione. He breathed in and looked at them all once again. “As long as you are alive, Hogwarts must be a safe haven for everyone, no matter what house they are in or how popular they are. And as long as I am alive, Hogwarts will always remain safe from those that would seek to destroy it as a safe haven. I promise.”

A rare, genuine smile briefly crossed his face before he gave a short nod. “Now, Miss Granger, you are particularly fond of the house elves. Why don’t you go scare the hell out of them with socks if dinner isn’t progressing nicely? Hargid, the Weasley wild car was sighted earlier today on the grounds, could you please trap it and return it to the Black Forest? Filius, the ceiling could use your artistic touch. Let’s give the first years a show.”

 

  
Pictures, even wizarding ones, never fully captured the beauty of Hogwarts when a starry eyed eleven year old first made the trek to the sorting hat in the great hall. The energy was electrified, the castle seemed to put its best foot forward for its newest charges and though there weren’t as many as in years past, it was nonetheless a pleasant sight. 

“There are fewer of them than I remember.” Severus nodded slightly at Minerva’s statement beside him. On her other side sat Hermione and to his left was Poppy and beyond her Flitwick. New staff sat mixed in with the veterans of the school who had elected to return. Not all did, and it had been a struggle to fill most of those roles. Few people seemed too keen on working at a school where Dumbledore died, the Dark Lord was defeated and Death was the headmaster.

Despite those rather notable points tied to the ancient school there were still more students than Severus expected.

Many first years were too taken by the scenery to pay attention to anything else, but older students either murmured amongst themselves or watched the head table. The sorting hat seemed to echo the words Severus used in that very hall earlier, encouraging students to look beyond their common room for friendship. Then, it sent the young impressionable first years to the houses that would guide their lives for the next seven years. 

“Is it even possible to undo all of the house resentment?” Severus asked quietly, and then looked to Minerva beside him. Minerva gave him a tight smile, one that barely hid a deep set tiredness.

“Perhaps someday. Even the Fortingall Yew began as a seed.”

 

  
Dinner went smoothly, albeit quieter than it had in recent years, barring the last one. Once the last of the students had left and the portraits assured him that the Hogwarts student body was settled in, Severus escaped for the staff room. There were privileges that came with being the Headmaster. One was that he could summon house elves and have tea alone in his own chambers at any time, but as last minute things came up, business that needed to be tended to quickly. No, it was easier to simply stay in the staff room and available for a little while longer. 

“It’s the first day and I already understand why Madame Pince was so often frustrated.” 

Severus paused mid-step at the sound of Hermione’s amused voice. He glanced in that direction and at the two overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. There sat Hermione and Minerva, each with their own cup of tea. He turned to leave again, but it was Minerva’s voice, welcoming him and urging him to stay, that made him pause. Taking his own cup, he walked over and took a nearby seat. 

Hermione grinned at him.

“I feel like I want to lock the library doors and not let any of them in. I can do that, right?” She laughed quietly as she said it and shook her head. “It took so much work to restore and I remember what some of the books went through. I feel protective even though it isn’t my personal library.” The admission wasn’t surprising, a fact made clear as both Minerva and Severus grinned a bit into their teas.

A moment of natural, comfortable silence filled the staff room as the three professors—two veterans, one fresh and new—decompressed after the first day. It was Minerva who broke it once again. 

“How does it feel being the headmaster without the war?”

Severus contemplated the question, his tea cup poised at his lips as he stared at the floor for a moment. “I never expected to survive so long as to see the end of the war. All things considered, I am feeling…good.” The word seemed to surprise him as much as anyone else may have been. 

“Well, technically you didn’t survive. You did die once.”

Both Minerva and Severus looked at Hermione, who looked suddenly quite uncomfortable. She shifted slightly and averted her eyes before she found the tea leaves in the bottom of her cup quite fascinating. 

“Would you really like to get into the metaphysical debate?” There was a distinct amused tone to his voice that drew the attention of both women in the room. Hermione smiled, grateful, and then shook her head slowly and deliberately. 

“No. No, that’s quite alright. I remember what happened last time. Two hours in and I was done! It was worse than the 1984 discussion.” Hermione shook her head with a unique combination of a wince and grin. Severus quietly snorted and grinned himself before sipping the steaming liquid he’d been nursing. 

Minerva watched, her keen eyes switching between the two of them over her spectacles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fortingall Yew is located in the churchyard of the Fortingall Parish Church. Though it’s reduced in size now, it used to be quite large. Many people have taken of farms and chunks of the trunk, but it’s still alive. It’s at least 3,000 years old and speaks to the longevity of the species. In symbolism the yew tree also represents rebirth, changes and regeneration. I felt like it’s appropriate for this story, and what Severus hopes to be a new era at the school.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry to took a while guys! I'm a copywriter and between hustling to find new clients (and finding them and getting setup) I've been busy and my writing mojo has been strained. I feel like the end of this chapter is a little bit weaker, but the most important part of it was the first part. The second part is too in that it shows the way they treat each other in public. He can't be nasty to her, and he doesn't want to be.


	10. Chapter 10

The first day back led into the first week, and then the first month, and so Hogwarts’ residents settled into a familiar pattern of academia and living. For first year students and new professors alike routine became a comfort and a way to adjust to new roles and responsibilities. For Hermione it wasn’t about school assignments, but keeping the library in working order. Students were careless with books and during the day, she hardly had time to put them up. It was easier to ask the librarian where something was and have her show them than to simply learn how to look it up.

Within the first week Hermione had voiced how she sympathized with Madame Pince. After a month, she looked a little like her.

A knock on the door frame caused Hermione to glance up and smile when she noted that it was Severus. The stress of the day was evident, but the harsh frown lines eased instantly. Severus, who leaned casually against the frame, held up two long tapered fingers with a piece of parchment folded neatly between them. 

“I made something. Come brew it with me?”

Lit up at the prospect, Hermione squared away her desk so that it was orderly enough for the following morning. Grabbing her cloak, she hurriedly and joined Severus in the hall, who had paused his long-legged stride so that she could walk beside him. Together, the two shed the stress of the day as they descended into the chilly dungeons.

After a summer of brewing together, the dungeons were a safe place that seemed receptive to the energy of the two who had claimed part of it as their own. Once there, they worked peacefully as two moving parts but, unlike many times before, a comfortable silence hadn’t been the only sound in the work room.

“I understand why Madame Pince hated children.” 

The admission came 20 minutes in, after both seemed to have unclenched the stress they’d been holding onto since the start of school. The man behind her snorted, amused, and handed her a potion ingredient she was about to need.

“They touch everything.” There was a pause. “And they are lazy! Why can’t they take some initiative to find things out on their own? Do things on their own?”

“At least they didn’t poke around where they shouldn’t have, set someone on fire and then nearly get eaten by a three headed dog, strangled by a plant, bludgered by a chess board and drink poison. I mean, there’s that.”

Hermione looked over at Hogwarts’ Headmaster, Death himself, and stared as he stared back with a chocolate and mint candy held between his lips. Both stood perfectly still for a full 20 seconds after his jestful reply. The piece of candy disappeared with one frog-like motion and finally Hermione’s mouth twisted as she fought off a grin. 

Looking away, she shook her head as his own mouth twisted into a momentary smile before he turned back to his brewing. 

“I thought you always said never to eat while you’re brewing, that you could contaminate something?” Her ill mood had evaporated and she grinned over at the man next to her, who merely shrugged before stirring a cauldron. 

“I’m Death, I do what I want.” His reply, reserved for her in private and always said flippantly, caused her to grin. “Besides,” he began, “I’m careful. It’s not going to hurt me and I won’t drop half eaten chocolate into the cauldron. At least, not accidentally.” He wasn’t above doing things just to see what would happen now that he didn’t have to worry about dying. When it looked like she’d protest, Severus quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“What are you doing around here anyway? Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley too busy with fame? You prefer books over flashing bulbs, but they are a different story.” 

The statement was light, inquiring, and did the trick. Hermione frowned a little and didn’t say anything for a few moments as she finished up her potion and put a charm on it. Able to give him her full attention, she finally smiled.

“Between his aurorship and Ginny, Harry stays pretty busy. And Ron,” she breathed in deeply before letting the breath out slowly, using the pause to form her thoughts. “Ron and I are better off as friends. He’s having a little trouble with that, but he’s working on it.”

He frowned, puzzled by her tactful response. “Why?” Immediately he paused and shook his head. “Nevermind, it’s none of my business.” Severus pulled back from a line he didn’t want to cross but, for her, was nonexistent. 

“No, no. It’s his jealousy. My books, Hogwarts, the job, you, he thinks all of it should come second to him. And I understand, all three of us almost lost each other so many times, but it’s too much.” Hermione exclaimed before she sat down on one of the benches, her leg tucked beneath her as she looked up at him. “Besides, we have so little in common. We wouldn’t have lasted anyway.” 

Severus listened, stifling any discomfort, and nodded just slightly at her last statement. He glanced over when she laughed quietly and stated that Ron’s bedside reading material was probably a comic book while hers was Jane Eyre. Severus mumbled a reply, his attention mostly on the cauldron in front of him as he finished up.

“What was that?” Turning his attention to her, he glanced back at the cauldron and cast a spell before giving her his full attention.

“Ah, The Master and Margarita.” He looked just a bit embarrassed, but as Hermione laughed he did as well. “Well, it seemed appropriate. The Devil, Death, general chaos when they come into town.” 

Shrugging it off, he began preparing the next stage of the complex potion they were working on. “I can see Jane in you,” Severus stated after a moment and smiled, briefly, at her before turning once again to the ingredients in front of him. 

The air shifted, grew thicker with a new kind of weight.  As he worked quietly with his movements carefully measured, he could feel her eyes on him. It made him uncomfortable in familiar kinds of ways—and thrilled in a way still as alien to him as the energy that was crawling undaunted up his spine, aroused by curiosity and his own peculiar discomfort.

Hermione looked away and he felt her eyes leave him. Severus glanced at her, noting the far away look on her face, as if she were reliving a memory all of a sudden. Quickly she left that place and time and stood again, working alongside him. Their companionable silence returned, but the calm had been replaced by static electricity. Death’s curiosity was piqued and Severus could feel the god urging him to do something—anything. Before Death became more insistent, or swayed Severus to its thinking, Hermione ended the struggle.

“Flourish and Botts is getting in a new potions book. It was written by a potions mistress in South America.” There was a pause the length of two heartbeats. “Would you like to go with me when it comes out?” Another pause. “If you don’t want to that’s fine, I understand. I imagine public isn’t always so nice fo-“

“I’d like that.”

She’d been dangerously close to rambling when he accepted, and he smiled over at the Gryffindor who, always so confident with her books and a cauldron, seemed uncomfortable and vulnerable now. Both returned to their brewing, not quite able to keep a little grin to themselves at the development. 

Outwardly, Severus was calm without a single tremor. Inside Death swelled, writhed and rubbed against its vessel, trying to seduce or at least push him into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys….I’m so sorry. My life has been insane but in the best way. New clients, new car and a new dog are all additions to my life and this time next year, hopefully a new house in a new state too. I haven’t forgotten about this, but most of my writing has been for clients and I’d be pooped when I’m done. But, I’m finding balance again and have been working on this! There was actually supposed to be more, but when I reached this point it felt right to end. I hope you guys enjoy it, and THANK YOU for your patience!


	11. Chapter 11

“You wait for months and months for it to come out and as soon as somebody gets it, they don’t start at the beginning-“

“Instead they’re a dunderhead and flip to the end and ruin the book.”

Both walked together, aware of the dying buzz and bustle of Flourish and Botts as they wound their way through the cluttered bookstore with their spoils tucked neatly into bags. While the two were consumed by the business of Hogwarts, Flourish and Botts had gotten in many other titles as well and very quickly both were caught up in exploring, reading covers and tucking books into shopping bags—something both swore, aloud or not, they absolutely wouldn’t do; neither mentioned it as they exited the cramped bookstore. 

Thought their path was not aimless, neither paid much attention as their feet tapped the cobblestone towards the Leaky Cauldron.

“Would you like to have dinner?”

Severus’ question came as they stepped through the doors, motivated by nothing more than hunger and the conversation of the company he kept.  
Hermione happily accepted the invitation and, slipping in through the door he held open, both made for an inconspicuous corner as quickly as possible. He wasn’t the boy who lived: he was the man who died and then came back to kill the Dark Lord. There was a certain amount of unwanted attention.

“I thumbed through the book a little bit—you know you did too—and found a very interesting entry on hallucinogenic cacti.” Hermione’s eyebrows raised and she gave him a little lopsided grin that he replied to with a devilish one of his own.

“Call it a new lease on life,” he continued. “What? I’m Death I—“

“Do what you want. Yeah you do.” Hermione gave him a big grin full of merriment. Severus grinned back at her, a rare and genuine smile. 

The hiss of a flash, blinding light and the smell of sulfur happened so suddenly both were caught off guard and didn’t take a particularly flattering picture. The camera, possessed with an intrusive mind of its own, hung over them and snapped again, capturing their irritated looks and suddenly cross moods as Rita Skeeter, in an obnoxious purple dressed, smiled.

“Such an adorable little couple the two of you make! Who would have thought, Hermione Granger and the Wizarding World’s latest hero would be here, of all places! Can you give the readers a quote?” She didn’t pause as both, looking as if someone had shoved something putrid and rotten beneath their noses, began shifting to escape.

“What was the attraction? What are your plans? OH! Are there going to be little ones in the picture soon?! Hogwarts, home to more than staff and students, but babies too!” The magic quill, and the source of so many problems, scribbled furiously over the parchment floating behind her.

Hastily, Severus got to his feet and took Hermione’s bag along with his own, taking her elbow, he caught her eye and glanced towards the muggle exit. She gave the barest of nods and together, they began moving towards it. Rita followed, only drawing even more attention to the couple and herself.

“What about a wedding! The readers want to know! How does that work with Death and your love affair in the afterlife? Is that considered cheating?!” 

The last thing the reporter saw before the door slammed in her face was an expression of dismay and revulsion from Severus. 

 

Once the two were on the street, he discreetly shrank his cloak and their bags before tucking them into a pocket. Both let out a breath and Severus gave her a wary smile as they fell in step with the light flow of muggle foot traffic. Quite accidentally, his white button up shirt and black slacks and her somewhat nicer outfit blended in just right with muggle London.

“What do you think about some of the things being printed about you?” The question came after a few minutes and a few blocks had been put between them and the most unwelcomed interruption to their evening. 

Severus shrugged slightly. “I don’t really read the papers anymore.”He glanced at her slight look of mild surprise. “I suppose I should, but I stopped after someone, her, I think, said they had cold hard proof that as Death I was having a steamy love affair with Druella Rosier and her husband Cygnus Black. Simultaneously.” 

The expression Hermione had for Rita Skeeter moments before returned, causing him to laugh slightly and nod, as if to say ‘my thoughts exactly’. Together, and carrying with them the same companionable silence of the dungeons, they wandered as Hermione seemed to reabsorb the world she was raised in.

“I haven’t been back here in quite a while. With mum and dad gone I haven’t really had a reason to.” Her statement wasn’t mournful or sad, causing the man to pause and ask how her search was going. 

“I’m getting closer every day,” Hermione replied and gave him a little smile and nod. “And, I’m sure that I can undo it. In all of the chaos of the war the how-to wasn’t quite as easy to recover, but I’m certain I can bring them back.” AS the ebb and flow of pedestrians guided them, they came to a stop in front of a newsstand. The pictures and magazines sat unmoving, dull compared to the wizarding world. Severus idly glanced over them. 

“I can’t believe she thought we were on a date.”

Hermione grinned at her companion slightly and gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well,” she began, “it did look like a date.” Her grin grew into a smile as he raised a brow at her. 

“We were dressed reasonably nicely, partaking in a meal after engaging in an enjoyable activity. The basics of a date were covered. I can understand her confusion.” Hermione nodded, unable to keep a grin off her face. The corners of Severus’ mouth twitched as he tried not to let her infectious grin spread.

“Is that right?”

“Most certainly.”

“I’ve never actually been on a proper date.” Hermione stopped and looked at him surprised. Severus gave a slight shrug. “Dating isn’t exactly a thing Death Eaters do and anyway, I’ve never been much of a looker.” The two stepped back onto the sidewalk, moving aimlessly with the crowd. 

“Well,” Hermione began confidently “we’re going to have to change that.” He let out a small, amused sound at her very Gryffindor-esque tone. Ignoring it, she pressed on. “If you went on a date, traditionally you should bring a lady flowers. For me personally, chocolate is always a winner. And if you do it in muggle fashion you should take her to a show.”

“Should I be taking notes?” His tone was amused as he nodded, taking in what she told him. Hermione grinned up at the man before tilting her head in thought. 

She began playfully ticking off suggestions on her fingertips. “Other acceptable topics of conversation include mutual hobbies, but nothing distasteful. For example, charms would be appropriate, but not potions.” She gave a little shrug as she finished off the list. “Of course for me both topics are thrilling as I can talk about pickled slimy things all day.” The man beside her actually laughed, causing her to laugh as well.

Dropping her hands and with a smile that reached her eyes, she shook her head. “You do things you both enjoy and enjoy one another’s company. That makes a successful date.” Severus nodded, amusement laced in every movement and expression over the fairly unnecessary tutorial on dating.

“One could argue,” Severus began, his hands in his pockets, “that we’ve been dating for a while then, right in the potions lab. Slimy pickled things included.”

Hermione grinned up at him and laughed. “You’re absolutely right. I do believe that qualifies.”

An expectant silence fell over them, both moods light yet the tension seemed electric. Hermione, the bold Gryffindor, wrapped her arm through his and hugged herself close to him. Severus grinned at her slightly and together, they had a slightly more energetic pace.

“Rita Skeeter was right about one thing. We are pretty damned adorable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, already over 600 words into the next chapter! I'm going to try to have it up by the end of the week or sooner, depending on work.


	12. Chapter 12

As the students and staff bundled themselves in cloaks and scarves and headed towards the quidditch pitch, the buzz an excitement of the latest Ravenclaw-Slytherin match didn’t extend into the Headmaster’s office. Inside, Severus Snape gave the short, ancient mediwitch flittering around him a dark look.

“I do not need a nurse to come to Hogwarts and give me a checkup.” Severus spat, punctuating the first six words. The witch, how had overseen the ill tempered man’s care at St. Mungo’s, only grunted as another spell twisted and illuminated what only her trained eye could understand.

“Apparently you do since you can’t seem to remember to get there on your own. And I’m not a nurse.”  Her no nonsense tone didn’t deter her patient in the slightest.

“I didn’t forget, I simply don’t need to be monitored like an invalid-“

“I still have an empty bed with your name on it and more than enough Draught of the Living Dead. Don’t test me young man.” The look he gave her as she circled back around in front of him, the last of her spells returning to the tip of her wand, was purely belligerent. 

He was determined to get in the last word.

“I’m not that young.”

“Oh, belt up.”

He considered retorting, but wisely obeyed and watched as she packed away her unnecessary instruments. Severus glanced towards the window, in the vague direction of the quidditch pitch, and then once again to her as she made a few more notes and turned to regard him. 

“One of the many spells I’ve performed on you today, and many times before, was to monitor your magical reserve.” When he merely raised a brow at her, she crossed her arms. “Your magical reserve is how strong you are, what defines one as a powerful, or not powerful, witch or wizard.”

“I’m familiar with what one’s magical reserve is. I fail to see why it should be significant to me at all. I feel fine.” She didn’t give him the long suffering look he was expecting, but one of concern. 

“I don’t know what you were before….the event, but from what I understand you were a formidable wizard. I’ve seen your levels increase exponentially since you first became my charge. I can no longer gauge where your magic is now.” Though her tone was matter of fact, it was clear that this didn’t sit well with the witch. 

Severus shrugged it off. 

“Well, good then. It means should I get in a duel, I’ll have enough stamina to outlast any opponent. How fortunate. Are we done here?”

The witch ignored him as she took her bag and held it with two wrinkled, papery hands in front of her. “Are you familiar with how a volcano works, child?” Silence greeted her. “Pressure beneath the surface builds up and as it does, it looks for a weak spot and when it finds it, it spews molten rock into the world.”

Severus regarded her, giving her look of unease a little more attention.  He sighed. “I don’t feel like a volcano about to erupt. I feel fine—better, actually, than I did before it happened. Nothing is going to happen.”

The medi-witch fixed her gaze on him before she began for the door. She stopped once she was even with him and, even though she was at least two heads shorter, she still held his attention as easily as she might if she stood ten feet tall. 

“The residents of Pompeii did not believe that Mount Vesuvius would erupt either.”

 

Because of magic or sheer determination, players from both teams ignored the cold as they swooped and charged through the air, bludgers on the offensive and seekers patiently waiting to scoop up the snitch and declare victory. The attempt at unification within the school, the push to shed old bias, was only marginally successful but as Hermione observed the student body she saw more students react than before. 

Gryffindors actually winced, and looked a little compassionate, when a Slytherin took a bludger to the small of their back. It was a start. Occasionally her eyes drifted in one direction and at least half the time her eyes met a pair of dark ones that somehow stood out against the ocean of spectators. Tearing her eyes away, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, she looked back at Harry and Ron. 

Ron hadn’t been as vocal and she hadn’t been jostled about in the bleachers. He still sulked and occasionally he too ended up looking where her gaze would inadvertently—and probably a little too frequently—go. 

“-they pulled him kicking and screaming. He wasn’t happy about it, but that one was off his rocker.” Ron paused in his story to cheer when a Ravenclaw managed to make a score. Harry clapped and Hermione remained neutral. Her neutrality, and the direction her gaze would occasionally drift to, hadn’t escaped Harry’s attention either. As Ron became entranced in the game, watching the teams dual for points and bragging rights, Harry shifted to stand closer to Hermione. 

“How are you doing?”

“Really well!” Hermione looked over at her best friend and smiled briefly before looking at the game again, her eyes drifting in a familiar direction. He wasn’t taking sides, and she didn’t want him to. 

“I bet you’re really loving working in the library. Do you ever leave or do you just have a cot in your office?” Harry’s question had a distinct amused tone to it, which only made her laugh. 

“No, no cot,” Hermione stated and laughed again. “Though I probably spend more time there than anyone would like. I can’t help it though, I never get tired of the library. I wouldn’t mind it if some of the more thoughtless students would though.” The admission came with a wince before she looked back at the game, able to point out, should he have asked, those students. 

A few minutes went by before Harry spoke again.

“How are you and Snape doing?” The question was a bit quieter than the rest, and came when Ron was thoroughly oblivious to anything but the game being battled out before him. 

Hermione only half listened to the question as she watched, hoping that her pupils didn’t end up taking a painful trip to the Hospital Wing.

“We’re doing really well!”

She paused as soon a she said it, her attention ripped from the game and suddenly all on Harry, who watched her unsurprised. He shrugged.

“I don’t like it, but it’s alright. Not surprising really, but if you have kids I feel bad for anybody that tries to teach them.”  He grinned at her sudden, enormous discomfort.

“They’ll be wicked smart and smart arsed too.”

 

Across the stadium, dark eyes watched the game below and though as headmaster, Severus had to remain neutral, the satisfied smirk that passed across his face was enough to show that he wasn’t neutral at all. His eyes would drift from the game to Hermione, sandwiched in between Harry and Ron. Occasionally the redhead would catch his eye and as Ron’s anger would rise, Severus didn’t make an effort to hide his smug enjoyment at the fact that the Gryffindor’s ire was stirred. This only spurred him on more and the hotheaded young man would turn away, making an effort to at least appear fixated on the game and not the power play taking place between the two.  One such round had just occurred and he declared victor when Kingsley’s deep voice broke through his thoughts. 

“I’m glad you changed your mind. Hogwarts just isn’t the same without you.”

“Your robes are flammable, Kinsley. Trust me, robes burn just as well at quidditch pitches as they do anywhere else.” Though the statement was delivered dryly and with a straight face, Severus glanced up at him and gave the faintest smirk. Kingsley laughed and as both men looked back at the game, Severus winced when one of his snakes took a bludger to the leg. 

Both men watched in silence as the student was checked out. Adrenaline fueled them to keep going and Kingsley too glanced at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. “How are you doing? The Wizengamot is still smarting from when you sat in front of them.”

Severus snorted, but didn’t say anything.  Kingsley paused a heartbeat before continuing, a frown on his face and concern in his voice. 

“They’d like to see you suffer the Dementor’s Kiss. You’re too different, too unpredictable now. They don’t know what to do with that.” Severus hadn’t turned to face the other man, but his attention was no longer on the game. Instead he took in what the auror said and, when he finished, he nodded just slightly. Turning to him, Severus smiled and gave him a rare, genuine smile.

“Thank you, Kinsley. You are my friend, and I appreciate the concern.” He glanced back at the game, but more importantly all of the people there also watching it. Many weren’t students and many had some hostility for the man who was employed to protect the school. 

It took two minutes of gazing at the witches and wizards focused on the game playing out before them before he spoke, his words thoughtful and purposeful.

“From the time I was a child I’ve been disliked, despised and my life filled with people who would just as soon see me fade into nothing, not even a scrawled note in the margin of a book. A group of self-important witches and wizards nearing their retirement and afraid of losing their power to me doesn’t concern me.”

  
Students mingled with witches and wizards as the quidditch pitch slowly emptied. Severus did his best to unobtrusively wind his way through clusters of conversations. Though occasionally snagged and pulled in by an opportunistic wizard, he finally locked eyes with his goal—the witch he wanted to find his way to.   
And then, just as quickly as he plotted a path to his destination, an arm circled through his and he found himself reeled to the side, face to face with two blonds in robes entirely too fine to be worn while trudging through Hogwarts mud.

“Severus, you’ve barely gotten out of that castle. You must meet my friend Vanuma…”

Narcissa rattled on, tugging him in the opposite direction. Severus looked to Hermione, searching for her face. To one who hadn’t watched his schooled, unemotional face it was too subtle, but Hermione smiled at the silent apology. A slight shake of her own head dismissed it as unnecessary, followed by a promise that the day would not pass without them seeing one another.

Severus allowed himself to be pulled away, dragged upstream towards the woman in question. She was almost as tall as him with raven black hair, a too-thin frame and green eyes so pale they looked eerie against her sharp face and self-serving grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is staying healthy during all of this. It’s…whoa. Intense. You’d think that it would allow for more writing but as many of us, myself included, struggle with paying bills it can zap creative energy. I have this story outlined already and am working towards finishing it. When I’m not weighed down with stress and worry Severus and Hermione both insist that this will not be the last you’ve seen of them, but we’ll see if I’ll be able to make that true!
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everyone. And as always, thank you so much for reading! Your support means a lot to me and drives me to keep going—hopefully with updates that are more frequent if I can get my stress levels to something more bearable.


	13. Chapter 13

“So, should I be jealous when I see you dragged away by two Malfoys in a crowd?”

“Would you ordinarily be jealous of the lamb when it is brought to slaughter?”

Hermione laughed quietly into her tea before tipping the warm liquid into her mouth. The library was quiet and empty, students having settled into common rooms and forbidden nooks for the evening. Hogwarts’ headmaster and librarian claimed two overstuffed chairs in the back, candles casting a warm glow over the two. 

Severus shook his head at the day’s events. 

“Narcissa has a single friend who, apparently, is perfect for me. I would agree if it weren’t for the fact that we have absolutely nothing in common, she is as attractive as a crow with a skin condition and she looked at me like I was a well seasoned drumstick.” This time Hermione coughed, laughing, into the cup and, after making sure that she was alright, Severus grinned. 

“Honestly I don’t know how I came away with all of my limbs intact.” He laughed along with her as he thought about the experience and then shook his head. 

“No,” Severus finished, “absolutely nothing to be jealous about.”

They both suddenly fell silent at the sound of shuffling near the entrance. Snuffing out the candle quickly they watched as Filch’s lantern light was diffused through the library windows. Quit disgruntled mumbling about students being out of bed could be heard as he opened the library door and peered inside the darkened room. Hermione and Severus both hunched down, just out of sight thanks to the high desk that separated their comfortable seats from the rest of the library.

Mumbles, and comments directed at the cat both knew had to be twisting around her master’s feet, filled the room along with the lantern light until once again the door shut. Both of them looked up, watching as the light bobbed gently down the hall once again. Watching until he was out of sight, they both once again settled into their chairs and, seemingly in a silent understanding, set their tea aside.

“Why did we go quiet? We’re both adults, we can be up if we want to.” The statement was still hushed as Hermione gathered up her cloak.  
Severus, also preparing for their customary walk, gave a slight shrug. “We are,” he agreed “but you did it first.”  
Looking at him, she grinned as he helped her into her cloak. “I thought you were the Headmaster and can do what you want.”

“I am,” he agreed “but you were quiet. I was intimidated and felt like I had to be too.” His face twisted as a grin threatened to escape and when she giggled, it did. 

“Me. Intimidating you. Okay.” Both began laughing, albeit hushed, as they slipped out of the library and towards the grounds.

“Well, you’re very bossy and that’s intimidating….” 

Thoroughly enjoying themselves, the two sparred back and forth as they left the castle behind and began an all too familiar trek around the grounds. By the time they reached the lake, they’d fallen into a comfortable silence, warmed by their robes and the presence of one another.

“May I do something?” 

It could’ve been minutes, or hours, since they left the library and Hermoine broke the silence. She turned towards him, looking up at the suddenly unsure man with a faint smile. Severus hesitated a moment before turning his body more towards he and giving her the slightest nod. Wordlessly, the witch took his left hand in her right and held it in front of her, palm up, as she traced over his long, tapered fingers. Her fingers traced back over the center of his palm and to his wrist—where his pulse raced against her fingertips. Looking up at him, he gave her a small, awkward smile.

“Death Eaters,” he hesitated, a frown on his face. “Death Eaters were rarely gentle and certainly never with any kind of kindness behind it. At least…not in my experience.” 

Hermione frowned and winced, as if she’d heard something painful to her senses, before turning his hand up and placing a small kiss on his wrist. Wordlessly, she traced a line along his nose and sharp cheek bones before her fingertips lightly traced over his lips. He stood completely still, watching her intently in the darkness and, when he offered no objections, Hermione stood on her toes and gave him a gentle, chaste kiss.

Bending just slightly, he deepened the kiss and cradled her head with one gloved hand. Hermione slipped her arms between his cloak and robes, drawing herself into his warmth. For an eternity they kissed before the need to breathe freely drew them apart. Hermione rested her head against his neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinct blend of spices and a subtle note of something sinfully sweet that hadn’t been there before the war.

“Severus?”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper and she made no effort to try and untangle herself from him.

“Yes?”

There was a long pause as they began to slowly sway.

“You taste _nothing_ like a well seasoned drumstick.”

When he began to laugh quietly, she giggled along with him and holding each other tightly, shielding each other from the crisp cold outside, they kept swaying gently in the cold, quiet night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, they finally kiss!!! The story is a bit of a slow burn, but....nope, not gonna say it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


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